Fools
by Aya Rose
Summary: A different look at Slytherin mentality
1. Red Planet

I really don't own Harry Potter. At all.  
  
I suppose I kinda own this character, but as she has no name, and is just a Slytherin 6th year during OoP, it's really just a concept. Feel free to use her at your convenience.  
  
----  
  
Fools.  
  
Fools, rodents, and scumsuckers surrounded her. The House of Slytherin admittedly did have more then it's fair share of the power hungry and their drooling lackeys, but of late the once noble House had become unbearable.  
  
True, her first year of school they did win the house cup for the seventh year in a row, but wallowing in past glories was not befitting of a woman of her stature. And her house had been holding her back of late. Keeping her from succeding while those around her embraced failure.  
  
When she had put the Sorting Hat on that first year, it spoke to her. Of boundless wisdom. Of unimaginable heights of power. Of secrets just waiting to be ripped open and laid bare. And she wanted to control it all. To touch the fabric of the universe with her power.  
  
Her first year at Hogwarts was nonstop work. Of her classes Transfiguration held her attention best of all. Flitwick was too vapid to follow seriously. Snape was too biased for her to trust. Even though it was biased towards her, it was unsettling at best. If Binns was as unsuccessful at teaching in life as he was in death, one wonders how he got the job in the first place.  
  
But McGonagall's uniform strictness was... refreshing. Transformation and Divination were her specialities. Two schools that couldn't be further appart.  
  
Then he came.  
  
No. Not Harry Potter. The Malfoy brat.  
  
Because of his father's status, he became the 'elite' among the Slytherin. A year younger and twice as stupid. Because he hated Potter, all of the House was expected to hate Potter.  
  
Simply because he was born to Voldemort's lapdog.  
  
It's... invigorating to watch him shudder when the Dark Lord's name is spoken. Potter of course speaks it freely. Not because he's the Boy Who Lived, or because he's not afraid of The Dark Lord, but because he shudders when other people avoid saying his name.  
  
More interesting is how wide but mediocre Malfoy's influence can be. It's well known he bought his way onto the Quiddich team. Not as well known are his abysmal grades (with the exception of those he paid to get up), and his uncontrollable loathing of Potter's entire circle.  
  
Rowena Ravenclaw once wrote: 'The easiest way to control a Slytherin is by making them green with envy, then they will fall into place where ever you direct them to'. Malfoy is a perfect example. Not as famous as Potter? Mock and try to defeat him. Not as smart as Granger? Mock and try to defeat her. Not as happy and tightly bonded as the Weasleys? Mock and try to defeat them.  
  
I'd be really impressed if he actually did something successful for once. Anything. At all.  
  
I stay out of the common room lately. Only thing to see in there is a group of underclassmen complaining about what they percieve 'Potter' has done to them. How he stole their glory. How he can't possibly survive against the Dark Lord. How the arrest of Malfoy's father is unfair...  
  
Complete and total idiots.  
  
Did they ignore the rumors? Of Potter facing and defeating Him in his first year. The fact with nothing more then a few simple charms, his circle defeated the best defenses the school has? He speaks parseltongue, discovered and sealed the Chamber of Secrets, and killed a thousand year old basilisk. Performs expertly and is capable of teaching the Patronus charm.  
  
And has faced the Dark Lord himself, no less then four times and survived each encounter. Of course, the first time he was just a baby, but he was hit in the face with a killing charm, and survived. Then he fought Quirrell, who was possessed by the Dark Lord. Then Virgina Weasley who was also possessed, but she lived. Then he faced him last year. Cedric died but Potter somehow escaped. Escaped The Dark Lord and all his Death Eaters.  
  
But the fools still pander to Malfoy, trying to be on the Dark Lord's side.  
  
Don't they see? Voldemort is weak. If he can't defeat someone like Longbottom, what chance does he have now that his Death Eaters have been taken, and both the Ministry and Dumbledor are gunning for him?  
  
Mars is bright in the sky. Mars has been red for a while. This means war is coming.  
  
Soon, House Slytherin will be cleansed of the unworthy. 


	2. Crimson Flowers

I still don't own Harry Potter (sometimes I'm glad I don't).

But this is still my character. Even though she still lacks a name. This one, is a lil' bit after HBP. Might have some spoilers. But it should be dripping with violence.

----

Fools, all of them.

For the first part of the year, it wasn't **him** that caused her misery. The boy was seemingly a non-factor. It was no more then the constant bleating of sheep that was sufficent enough to start her seventh year off badly.

Her family had not wanted her to go to school at all this year. The fact she 'already' had nine OWLs was brought up numerious times. The fact that she was 'already' very accomplished at what ever she did. The fact that it just wasn't safe anymore. From oldest to youngest, most distant to closest, all members of her family, from all walks of her life told her not to risk going to school this year.

They couldn't understand. Regardless of risk, the knowledge to be gained was worth more then any legal certification. The accolades of the 'common' folk ment nothing when she, herself knew there was more information to be found through out the world. And there could be no place safer then inside the magical stronghold known as Hogwarts. Filled with trained witches and wizards, and over running with eager potential, it had better manpower then the government had access to. And with wards so anchent and secure, any breach would be immediately noticed and confronted.

Of course. That's exactly what happened, isn't it.

Again, **he** acted in such a fashion, one befitting a coward and a weasel and all forms of slime covered life, and distroyed everything important to me.

It wasn't enough, at just a hint of _Voldemort's_ name, the sheep began to panic. It's not enough, at just the threat of drawing _Voldemort's_ attention, each of my dearest friends was pulled out of school, one at a time. Like leaves off a tree in autumn.

Oh no, that's not enough. He has to kill the headmaster as well.

Thereby canceling my school. Right at the end.

Preventing me from finishing my NEWT studies.

I do not fear the name of Voldemort. Fear gives him power, and power is what I'll need and he has too much of.

That's why I'll hunt him. If I die, that is what was fated. If Voldemort dies, I will succeed.

And I will take pleasure in watching the young Malfoy's body drop to the floor, having gasped it's last breath.

There's movement ahead.

There is three. A witch and two wizards. No Malfoy though. Leaving that bar.

There was a rumor. The barkeep was being threatened into producing potions for death eaters. He badmouthed them instead. Even turned one into the government. They say they began threatening his life.

By the dark mark being cast into the air by the woman, it's likely they've taken his life already.

There are four things you have to keep in mind when hunting dark wizards.

One, fear is their weapon. The mark scares away the sheep. The sheep never even think to interfere. And the dark ones are usually gone before people willing to fight show up.

Usually.

The potion running down my throat tastes horrible, like a mixture of snake spit and wood shavings and hampster urine. That's because it is. The potion of dark speed is restricted knowledge. Mostly because the government feels that 10 seconds of speed is not worth three years later in life.

I however, feel that's a fine trade.

Two, go for the women first. They go down faster, but don't suffer from the effects of pain nearly as much.

That's why I can knife her in the back of the throat without second thought. Even with everyone around me acting in slow motion, and every simple movement is like wading through a vat of thick pudding. The complete inablity to breathe on my part and my ears pounding as my heart beats faster then my blood can move. I don't even have time to relish the spray of her blood when the knife emerges through the front of her neck.

The loud 'wooshing' noise as time catches up to me, two very surprised wizards, staring at their gurgling comrade as I use her body as a shield with one arm, the other hand swinging up along her side, Susan in hand.

Three, muggle-tech confuses most of them. Yes, the killing curse is very effective. If you have wand in hand, and you have enough desire to kill a person. Conveniantly, the muggles have created and perfected wands specially designed to do just that for years before Voldemort's birth.

Susan is over a hundred years old. She is a Colt single action army, with a long history behind her, and a lot of stories to tell. But most importantly, she's very good at her job. Younger mass produced weapons work, but items with a spirit of their own are much harder to stop. Not quite artifacts, not really ghosts, but not to be overlooked either.

The first falls with a tricky gut shot. You have to get them in the lungs early. Otherwise they try to cast spells. And if they start casting spells, you tend to lose. The second tries to run, possibly to get some space, only getting shot in the square in the back for his trouble. Susan doesn't like shooting people in the back, but she knows rule number four.

Four. Never suffer a dark wizard to live.

If they get away, they come after you in your sleep. After your family. After your friends. They scamper back to their master with an address book of people they can't scare, they can't handle, and want to have killed for them. Like infants crying for their mother's teat.

If you put them in jail, they just break out. If you reform them, they just backstab you later.

It only takes three more bullets to finish the job. Three bright red flowers across the cobblestone.

It's messy, yes. But three wounded death eaters tell Voldemort who did it. Three dead ones only say 'Beware'.

I slump under a tree to catch my breath, the potion took a lot more out of me then I thought it would. But three are down for good.

I smile up to Mars, bright red and hanging bright in the sky. Perhaps this war will shine brighter then any before, and any after.


End file.
